


five times adam parrish thought ‘i love you’ was overrated

by allwyf



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Really I just had to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwyf/pseuds/allwyf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(And one time he didn’t care.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times adam parrish thought ‘i love you’ was overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely inspired by tumblr prompts.  
> Ps I don't have a beta and have many feelings.

1.

“Don’t do that. _Ever. Again._ ”

Adam finds it hard to breathe with the relief he feels at the moment. It’s over. Adam can hear Gansey from somewhere behind him saying “Blue, Blue, oh god Blue,” over and over and Blue answering with “Shut up, Gansey” with utmost fondness and that’s how he knows they’re both okay.

Ronan Lynch tried to die in his place but he’s here now and he’s coughing swearwords and he’s _so_ alive. They’re drenched and shivering and Adam feels like he’s gouging canyons on Ronan’s arms with how tightly he’s holding onto them, but neither of them care.

“Buy me coffee and we’ll call it even,” says Ronan after a while, grinning.

“I’ll punch you then we’ll call it even.”

“Didn’t peg you for the aggressive type, Parrish.”

The truth is, Adam wants to bundle Ronan in his stupid leather jacket and drive him back to Monmouth and make him drink hot chocolate and do his homework, _assume some modicum of normalcy_ , aggressively or otherwise.

“Never again, Lynch, I swear to god I am _done_ with the supernatural.”

 

2.

Adam Parrish is trying not to smile. He’s failing, but that isn’t the point. Ronan Lynch’s head is resting on his shoulder and the boy is holding his hand so tightly it hurts a little and Adam’s other hand is on the small of Ronan’s back and he’s trying _really hard_ not to smile but. That. Is. Not. The. Point.

The point is he doesn’t know how to contain his happiness at the moment and it’s unlike him to not know what to do with his feelings.

Adam knows he doesn’t know Ronan as much as Ronan knows him, but the way Ronan looked at him just then, like when you look at the sun too long and there are tiny hexagons of light in your eyes and you’re afraid you’ll go blind but you can’t stop looking, which is pretty dangerous but is so worth it, well, okay. Adam knows Ronan well enough to understand _that_.

When Adam took Ronan’s hand and kissed him, it was more of an ‘I know’ rather than an ‘I feel the same way’ even if he does, strongly, feel the same way, because Ronan Lynch goes to church but he does _not_ confess.

When Ronan reeled back and yelled “What the fuck, Adam” Adam realized he could maybe get into poetry if it’s mostly profanity and his name coming out of Ronan’s mouth. Ronan tripped over the tacky Santa Claus paper mache he bought to solely to annoy Adam and Adam pulled him up at the last moment (the last thing he needs is Ronan cracking his skull on Adam’s floor), hence their current position.

“7.3 billion people on this planet, and you chose me. Huh.”

Ronan doesn’t respond, but Adam feels him beginning to smile against his neck and he takes it as a signal to extract his hand and hug him with both arms.

“To be fair, you’ve probably only met like 20 people, so I probably shouldn’t let this get to my head.” Adam has given up on trying not to smile. His cheeks are aching already.

“The indomitable Ronan Lynch, at loss for words. I’m kind of impressive, I guess.”

Ronan wraps his arms around Adam’s neck. “Shut up, Parrish.”

“Make me.”

He didn’t think it was possible, but Ronan just _burrows_ his face deeper and it tickles. “Ahh, stop. It was worth a try.”

Ronan steps back, his arms propped on Adam’s shoulders. Adam supposes he has to get accustomed to a life of being an armrest. His ears are redder than tacky paper mache Santa’s coat. “If I kiss you, will you shut up?”

Adam grins. Victory. “Oh, well, definitely. I mean, it would be very difficult—”

Ronan kisses him and Adam decides to pour his unplaceable feelings into _that_.

 

3.

“Ronan Lynch!” Adam growls. Ronan is unfazed, smiling down at him innocently and Adam almost scoffs because the Ronan looks like a lot of things but he hasn’t looked innocent for about 15 years.

They’re wedged between the kitchen/bathroom door, Ronan’s arms on either side of Adam’s head, under a _mistletoe_ , and this is the 6th time in less than two hours.

“I didn’t do this,” Ronan quips, and Adam believes him because he doesn’t lie. That doesn’t mean it’s not his fault though.

“Did you put Noah up to this?”

Ronan pfffts like he’d never do such a thing, is that what you think of me, Parrish, and said ghost appears beside them. “True, I was responsible for the first one, but that’s the only one, I promise.”

“I’m not doing this.” It’s not that Adam doesn’t like kissing Ronan—to be honest, it’s his favorite pastime nowadays—it’s just that it’s a stupid tradition or whatever and he’s not exactly publicly affectionate. Ronan isn’t a publicly affectionate person either but apparently, people change.

His deceptive smile softens into something else, and Adam would never admit it but his boyfriend looks adorable. Not adorable in the cute “I’m small and I will fight you” way Blue is, or the geriatric fumbling kind of adorable that Gansey is, and not even the level of adorable that is Noah with anything remotely glittery. Adam’s glad he still has a lot to learn about Ronan.

“This is the last mistletoe, I promise,” says Ronan and leans down. Adam stands on his tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He hears Blue hoot from the living room.

Afterwards, Ronan takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen where they can continue without being watched. “If you really wanted to know, Blue made Gansey hang all the mistletoe because she can’t reach.”

“Will every Christmas be like this from now on?”

Adam didn’t mean to imply they’ll be spending more Christmases together, but in a heartbeat he realizes he can’t really see his life going another direction. The shock is evident on Ronan’s face, but he dispels it easily.

“I don’t think the maggot will give us a choice.” His ears are red again.

Adam agrees.

 

4.

“Ronan, for the love of all that is good and holy, sing the Murder Squash song instead.”

Ronan turns off the gaudy Christmas carols and complies. Adam regrets it immediately.

 

5.

“You just had to get sick on Christmas Eve, huh.” Ronan bundles him in a duvet with a tennis ball pattern before climbing onto the bed with him. He’s still wearing the suit he wore for Midnight Mass that Adam regrettably cannot appreciate fully at the moment due to his watery eyes. If Ronan hadn’t checked on him before going home, he’d probably frozen to death by now in his heat-less apartment.

“Did I want this,” demands Adam, but it’s a weak attempt and it comes out as “Deeb I wad dis” because of his stuffy nose.

Ronan scoots closer and wraps an arm around him. “Yeah, yeah, get some sleep. Don’t die on me.”

“You’re too sweet.”

“I try.”

He attempts to bump their noses together but Adam sneezes so hard and so abruptly that Ronan disentangles and falls off the bed.

“Fuck,” Ronan whispers, sounding pained.

“Sorry,” Adam whispers back. “Come here, let me kiss it better.”

Ronan sits up and squints at him. “You’re contagious.”

Adam tries to look apologetic. “I lied. Come back to bed anyway, you’re like a heater.”

“I knew it. You only want me for my body.”

“The tattoo is pretty hot, I admit.”

This time, Ronan gets under the covers with him and slides his hands under Adam’s shirt, which is _fantastic_ because he _is_ really warm. He only jumps slightly when Adam presses his cold feet against his shins.

 

+1

Adam got him the same Coca-Cola shirt that he has except two sizes bigger, because Ronan kept wearing his shirt and it’s beginning to stretch permanently.

 “Aw, I didn’t get you anything because I _am_ the gift,” says Ronan, spreading his arms and looking smug after trying the shirt on. The Coca-Cola shirt is dampening the effect. “You can unwrap me later.” He winks, and Adam can only rolls his eyes so far.

Adam’s not stupid. He knows Ronan knows Adam has a compulsive need to reject things people give him, so he’s been throwing little presents at him for the past week. Sometimes literally, like the dozen or so pair of socks that he just magically produces from his jacket pocket at least twice a day and tosses to Adam because they “weren’t his color.” There’s a new bedspread and blanket he came home to the other day with just a note saying “I don’t want to get hives on my back” and a new mug he made Adam use in Monmouth that says _u r a nerd_ in Comic Sans and it’s definitely not Gansey’s.

“You’re so lame. I love you.”

Ronan’s face falls. “What.”

“I said,” Adam crosses the distance between them and takes Ronan’s face in his hands. “I love you.”

“What the fuck,” says Ronan, going from fair to red as hell in a span of a second. He dives for Adam’s lips and he reciprocates with as much enthusiasm.  He’s aware it will take time for Ronan to say it back, if he ever will, but he doesn’t have to anyway. Adam already knows.

**Author's Note:**

> (Gently sinning/screaming at ronanov.tumblr pls talk to me about Pynch)


End file.
